A Place For Us
by messicaann
Summary: Katniss went into the Quarter Quell pregnant and no one knew. Now, with her in District 13 and Peeta trapped in the Capitol, how will they find their way back to each other and how will a baby affect the Rebellion? Told through four separate viewpoints of Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, and Gale ********THIS IS A RETELING OF MOCKINGJAY WITH SOME SLIGHT CHANGES******
1. Chapter 1-Haymitch

_**Haymitch_**_

We're sitting outside District 13's hospital ward, waiting for the doctors to come and tell us whether or not there is any residual damage left from the time Katniss spent in the arena. It's been a month since we picked her up, unconscious and bleeding, from beside the lightning tree, a month since we gave her the sedative that knocked her out, ending her raving about the fact that we had left Peeta in the arena, only for him to be captured and dragged out by the Capitol. After we arrived in 13, the doctors decided to leave her under sedation for a few more weeks, hoping that it would give her body, if not her mind, the time it needed to heal.

I run my fingers over the fresh scratches on my cheek, the result of Katniss raking her fingernails across my face in her anger over Peeta's capture. I sigh inwardly, knowing that I can't blame her in the least. Leaving the boy behind wasn't part of the plan, but there just wasn't enough time. If we'd stayed and tried to rescue him and Johanna (I couldn't care less about the fate of Enobaria), we would have all been in danger. If we'd been captured and caught, the entire rebellion would have been put down. I've told myself this dozens of times since Katniss woke up on the Hovercraft, wanting only to know where the boy was, but it doesn't lessen the guilt of not being able to save him.

I glance around the waiting room, studying the faces of my companions. Mrs. Everdeen is sitting directly across from me, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her head held high, chin pointed up at the ceiling. Next to her is Prim, legs crossed, one elbow balanced on her knee, cradling her cheek with her hand. On my left sits the Hawthorne boy, legs spread, elbows balanced on his knees, his head in his hands, staring directly at the floor. He hasn't said a word since we gave Katniss the second sedative after she awoke from the first and, following Hawthorne's revelation about the bombing of District 12, flew into another rage, screaming that her home was destroyed, her people dead and it was all her fault. It wasn't her fault. But I understood.

I know what it's like to have the price of your actions paid in the blood of the people you love.

I glance at the clock on the wall, noting irritably that we've been sitting here for almost two hours and the doctors have yet to tell us anything. They asked us to come here this morning, telling us that they were going to give Katniss a final check over and then ease up her sedation. She has been out of commission nearly a month and though I would never admit it to anyone, I'm worried about the kid, worried about the effects of being under sedation for so long, worried about whether or not she is healed, worried that when she wakes up she will not be the same Katniss Everdeen that I sent into the Quarter Quell, the lioness ready to fight anyone and anything that got in her way. I think of the fire I saw in her eyes when we said goodbye before the Quell, the fire that let me know that she would do everything in her power to save Peeta and I had better keep my promises too.

 _Stay alive. Remember who the real enemy is._ These are the only pieces of advice that I gave them before I sent them into that arena, knowing that there was a plot that they knew nothing of. I knew that it wasn't going to be a typical Hunger Games, regardless of whether or not it was a Quarter Quell. And still, I sent them in there with nothing.

"Ahem."

I'm yanked from my thoughts by a polite cough and look up to see a man standing in the doorway, dressed in the drab doctor's uniform of 13. I know immediately that this man has come to give us news of Katniss and at once we are all on our feet, opening our mouths at once.

"How is she?"

"Is she okay?"

"Is she completely healed?"

"Can we see her?"

The doctor holds up his hand, silencing us with one look. Like the rest of the people I've met in 13, he seems to be almost robotic in his movements, his face blank of emotion, no sign of empathy for the patient's worried family and friends. I feel like punching him, just to get a reaction out of him.

"Patient Everdeen is awake from her sedation. You may see her, although I must caution you to be careful and not overwhelm her. From what we can see, she has not sustained any lasting injuries from the events surrounding the Quarter Quell and her rescue. She did have some slight blood loss from the tracker being cut out of her arm, we gave her a transfusion and that's no longer a worry. She also had a mild concussion, but luckily it was able to heal while she was under sedation. The only concern our medical team has is for the baby's survival. If we'd known she was pregnant, we would have possibly taken a different track in her care. However, for right now, the baby's stable and seems to be growing on track. We'll need to monitor her carefully throughout her pregnancy, of course, to make sure that both she and the baby remain stable."

The doctor looks at us expectantly, presumably waiting for us to hit him with our barrage of questions. You could hear a pin drop, not even our breaths make noise as we all stare, wide eyed at the doctor. No one speaks, because what is there to say? This must be a mistake, Katniss is _not_ pregnant, it was a lie that Peeta made up to try and stop the Quarter Quell, nothing more, nothing less.

"Did you say _pregnant_?" I'm as surprised as anyone when my voice breaks the silence, I thought for sure I had gone mute for a minute. Even to my own ears, my voice sounds abnormal, it scratchy and high pitched. I shake my head, hoping to clear it, although I'm not sure what there is to be clear of. I haven't had alcohol once since I came to this godforsaken district, this is the longest I've gone without drinking since I was 17.

The doctor looks at me strangely, glancing around at the other faces next to me. I glance at them as well, knowing that I'm seeing my own surprise and shock etched on their faces.

"Yes, Patient Everdeen is a little over three months pregnant." He says this slowly, drawing out every word, as if he's talking to a group of toddlers. I can only imagine what he makes of us, standing frozen, acting as if we'd never heard the word pregnant before.

"Katniss can't be pregnant. She can't. Are you sure?" This comes, not from Mrs. Everdeen as I would have expected, but from the normally shy and quiet Prim. She looks at the doctor almost pleadingly, begging him to tell her it's a mistake.

"Ma'am, there is no doubt. It was confirmed with a blood test and an ultrasound. The baby appears to be healthy, maybe a little on the small side, but otherwise healthy."

Upon hearing these words, an animal like groan echoes through the rom and I turn to the source of the sound, perhaps expecting Mrs. Everdeen or Prim to have collapsed, but to my utter surprise, it's Gale who is slumped in his seat, the heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, shaking his head wildly from side to side and muttering, "No…no…no," underneath his breath. I glance at the women standing next to me. Mrs. Everdeen has a resigned look on her face, while Prim has one hand pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide, as if she cannot reconcile this shaking, sobbing man with the burly, hulking hunter she grew up with. It's while I'm staring at Hawthorne, watching as the dry sobs rack his body, that it suddenly occurs to me that Katniss did not make this baby alone. And judging by Hawthorne's reaction, he is most definitely _not_ the father. Which can mean only one thing...Peeta.

Peeta is the father. Katniss is carrying Peeta Mellark's child and he's trapped in the Capitol, having God only knows what done to him.

I am suddenly furiously angry at them. How dare they not tell me this, how dare they be so damned stupid as to risk this, how dare they think they can keep this baby at this point in their lives, how dare they consider bringing a child into this cold, cruel world. If we don't win…if this rebellion fails…they have not only guaranteed their child a slip of paper in the Reaping Ball, but have almost certainly condemned it to a bloody death that will end in the sound of cannon fire.

"Would you like to see Patient Everdeen now?" The doctor asks, creeping towards the doorway, clearly desperate to make his exit. We have no doubt given him a delightful impression of the people from District 12, that he can carry back to his colleagues and they can spread it to their families and then we'll be outsiders, even more so than we already are.

Mrs. Everdeen, Prim, and I all follow the doctor, leaving Gale sitting there, shrunken in his chair, as if knowing that the girl he loves is carrying the baby of another man has taken his literal strength from him, leaving him reduced in size.

The doctor leads us down a long white corridor that smells strongly of antiseptic, but underneath there is a very faint smell of sickness and death, as if all the antiseptic in the world cannot cover up the scent of what really happens here. The doctor stops in front of a door with no handle and scans his badge under a black box mounted on the side of the door with three green blinking lights. After emitting three beeps, the door slides open, revealing a pristine white room. In the middle of the room sits a steel bed and in that steel bed, tucked under crisp white sheets, slightly sitting up, her head resting on the elevated pillows behind her, raven hair spread out, gray eyes blinking sleepily.

The sound of the door sliding back into the wall lets us know that the doctor has quietly slipped away and now it is up to us to confront Katniss about her lies, time to confront her about where we go from here.

We gather around the bed, Mrs. Everdeen and Prim on either side, while I stand at the foot of the bed, hands in the pocket of my slacks, wishing with everything in me that one of those pockets held a flask of white liquor. I could use some liquid courage right now.

"Haymitch…Mom…Prim…how long have I been out?" Katniss asks, her voice dry and hoarse. She struggles to sit up further and I notice how pale her normally olive skin is. She is still weak, no matter what the doctor says.

"You've been under sedation for about a month, Katniss." Prim says, her eyes gentle on her sister. "We wanted to give your body a chance to recover from the Games and from the…shocks…that you received after it." Prim chooses her words carefully, as if she afraid to plainly mention the bombing of District 12, as if Peeta Mellark's name is a weight that cannot afford to be dropped right now. I understand that it's Prim's way, to gently ease people into things, it can't be like that this time. As much as I would like to give Katniss time to adjust, there's no time to give. This baby will no doubt throw a wrench into the well ironed plans of Plutarch Heavensbee and our fearless leader President Alma Coin and the sooner it is dealt with the better.

"Why didn't you tell us? You should have told us before the Quell began!" I bark at her, clenching my hands into fists, wanting nothing more than to shake some sense into her. These fools…what have they done?

"Why didn't I tell you what, Haymitch? If I remember correctly, _you're_ the one keeping secrets…that little thing called the rebellion that conveniently slipped your mind." She throws this in my face, no doubt expecting it to find its mark somewhere. But even that cannot distract me now. Looking Mrs. Everdeen and Prim, it's clear that they are not about to be the bearer of bad news. I grit my teeth, once again wishing for the sweet relief of liquor.

"You should have told us about the baby. You should have told us you were pregnant!" I'm yelling at this point, furious that they made this mistake, furious at myself for not watching over them better.

Katniss sits bolt upright, her gray eyes blazing. All at once, it's as if the color has returned to her face and the life to her eyes. The tops of her cheeks are red, her lips apart, teeth bared in a grimace.

"What are you talking about? I'm not pregnant…I can't be pregnant… that was just a lie that Peeta made up to try and stop the Quell."

Mrs. Everdeen, who I have not heard utter more than three words since we arrived in District 13, steps closer to Katniss's bed, gripping the steel railing of the bed with her hands so tight that her knuckles turn white.

"Katniss, the doctors confirmed it with a blood test and an ultrasound. You're a little over three months pregnant. The baby is healthy, it survived the explosion in the arena. You're both safe." She says this to Katniss, her eyes locked on her hands gripping that bed rail, as if she expects it to try and jump out of her grasp any minute. It's as if she cannot lift her eyes to her daughter, her pregnant, teenage daughter, the daughter who is supposed to be the symbol of the rebellion, the Mockingjay, the one who will free all of Panem from the dictatorship of the Capitol.

Katniss whips her head around to me, her eyes wide and frightened. Her face is frantic, her lips parted, as if open to deny the accusation. And then suddenly she stops, a frown forming on her face, her forehead crinkling into lines, as if whatever is running through her mind has taken her complete attention. I watch the gauntlet of emotion swing across her face, anger, embarrassment, something that could be described as longing, and finally dread. She looks up at me, one hand drifting subconsciously to her abdomen. The lights dim in her eyes and the next thing I know, her eyes have rolled back in her head, only the whites showing as she collapses in a faint against her pillows.

Mrs. Everdeen and Prim rush towards her but I'm standing frozen at the foot of the bed, with only one thought running through my head.

 _She didn't know…_


	2. Chapter 2-Katniss

**Katniss**

" _Katniss! Katniss, help me!"  
The scream tears at my heart and I turn around to see Peeta in the grip of two Peacekeepers, hands held behind his back, his face bloody and bruised. Even as he says my name, a Peacekeeper raises a short, thick, black stick in the air and brings it down with a sharp crack between Peeta's shoulder blades. With a cry of pain, Peeta falls to his knees._

 _I watch in horror as a Peacekeeper pulls a gun from the side of his hip and places the tip of the gun directly against Peeta's head. I start to run forward, desperate to save him, but I find myself suddenly trapped in a clear glass tube, much like the one that transported me into the arena. All I can do is slam my hands against the glass in a frantic attempt to free myself, but it's useless. I'm screaming so loud that my blood is thundering in my ears and it feels like my heart is going to burst out of my chest any minute now, which I would welcome if it meant erasing the sight of the Peacekeeper pulling the trigger, the bullet entering Peeta's brain, or the look of satisfaction on the face of President Snow, who has suddenly appeared beside the Peacekeepers. His eyes lock onto mine, a twisted smile on his face as Peeta's lifeless body falls at his feet._

 _"Peeta! No, Peeta, Peeta! No, no!" I wake up suddenly, my limbs tangled in sheets, my throat raw from screaming. I'm thrashing around in the sheets, my head swinging wildly from side to side, my hands gripping the sheets, unsure if what I just witnessed was a dream or reality, when the door to my room suddenly flies open. Peeta stumbles into my room, his robe half on, his hair tousled from sleep, his eyes wide open in panic._

 _"Katniss! What's wrong?" Peeta makes it to the side of my bed in two strides and I fling my arms around his waist and bury my head in his chest, pressing my cheek to the place where his heart beats, the strong, steady beats that reassure me._

 _"Hey…what's wrong?" Peeta asks softly, his arms around me, his hands on my back, his fingertips gently stroking._

 _"They killed you. They killed you right in front of me and I couldn't save you." I mumble into his chest. I feel his arms tighten around me and he leans his head down and presses a kiss to the top of my head._

 _"I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere." He whispers._

 _I want so badly to believe him. But I know, as well as he does, that we are not in control of our own lives. We are at the mercy of the Capitol, merely players in a game that has no rules and never ends. What precious little freedom we did have disappeared the moment I pulled out those berries, maybe even before that, maybe it happened the second Effie pulled those names out of the Reaping Ball. Had volunteering for Prim been my last act of free will? And even that had not been a choice. I could have not stopped myself from volunteering for Prim any more than I could stop the Reaping itself from happening. There was no choice at all._

 _I look up to find Peeta's brilliant blue eyes resting on my face. The look in his eyes brings that unfamiliar warmth to my chest, the hunger I'd felt only once before, as we waited for our deaths in the cave._

 _"Stay with me?"_

 _He gives me a wistful half smile before pressing me back down against the pillows and bringing the covers up to my chest, before climbing in beside me. I flip onto my side and study his face, taking in his blue eyes, the blond curls that fall over his forehead, his pale complexion, the set of his lips. I'm looking at him, his face full of something I can't quite identify and I'm suddenly filled with rage at the Capitol. How dare they do this to Peeta, take away his choices and give him a life sentence with me in return? How dare they do this to Peeta, one of the few genuinely kind and decent people, whose only crime was to love and protect me._

 _I don't even know what happens next, but I'm suddenly desperate to do something of my own free will, something that wasn't controlled, scheduled, and dictated by the Capitol and the Gamemakers. In the next breath, my lips are pressed against Peeta's and I've circled my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. Instead, he responds to my kiss, bringing his hands up to gently cup the sides of my face. It's only when my hands find their way to the hem of his shirt and begin to pull it up, my fingertips dancing across his abdomen, that he jerks back, staring at me with wide eyes that blaze a furious blue._

 _"Katniss. What are you doing?" He says this slowly and carefully, as if each word has weight and needs to be used carefully_

 _I look down at my hands, clutching the hem of his shirt. The truth is that I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not thinking about the future or what affect this will on our relationship. I'm just desperate to prove that I'm not the Capitol's show pony, someone who does whatever is demanded of them without questioning._

 _"I want to be more than just a piece in their Games." I say, echoing the words Peeta said to me on the roof of the Tribute Center the night before we entered the arena. I press my lips up against his once again, trying to convey all the emotions that I will never been able to express in words._

 _I break the kiss and look straight into the blue blaze of his eyes._

 _"I want this, Peeta. Please."_

 _He draws in a ragged breath and apparently decides to throw caution to the wind because in the space of a breath, he's looming over me, his lips fused to mine, his fingers running through my hair._

 _My breath catches in my throat as that warm, unfamiliar feeling enters my chest again. My fingers find that hem of his shirt again and this time I succeed in tugging it up to his shoulders. As he sits up to fully remove the shirt, my eyes take in his upper body. His skin is pale, with a dusting of blond hair on his chest and it is evident that lifting those 100lb bags of flour in the market have kept him in shape. His muscles are well defined, his arms long and muscular, his shoulders broad. Unlike so many of the boys in the Seam (and even a few in town) Peeta's body glows with health and vitality. Clearly, being the baker's son has its perks._

 _He lowers himself back to me and begins to kiss a slow, sweet line, starting at my ear and continuing down. At the same time, he slides his hand under my nightgown and his palms burn like a brand on my skin. I feel him lifting my gown high and higher, as my hands go to the waistband of his pants. And then we are bare before each other and Peeta is looking at me and his eyes are shining._

 _"You're perfect." He whispers as he picks up my hand and twines our fingers together, placing a kiss on the back of our join hands. As usual, I have no words, nothing that can possibly express what I feel in this moment._

 _Thankfully, Peeta is too busy to notice, as he gently lowers me onto the pillows. And then we are a tangle of arms and legs, our mouths pressed together, our hands exploring, charting the topography of our bodies._

 _I didn't know that it was possible to feel like this, I've forgotten about everything, the world has ceased to exist beyond the two of us. There is only here, there is only now,_

 _When the moment arrives, there is pain, yes, but it seems very distant. I take no notice of it, completely caught up in this experience and the boy experiencing it with me. Afterwards, Peeta tips his forehead against mine and asks if I'm okay, his face is bright and happy, the apples of his cheeks are flushed, his teeth are white and flashing as he smiles._

 _I simply nod because there is no possible way to describe the feelings rushing through me._

 _He reaches down and retrieves our clothes from where they've landed on the floor and we dress again, because even on this train back to District 12, on the last night of our Victory Tour, we are not guaranteed privacy._

 _After we've righted our clothes, I turn and lay my head on his chest, listening for that steady heartbeat. I can feel sleep reaching towards me, pulling me in and before I let it, I whisper, "Thank you for staying with me."_

 _Peeta drops a kiss on my head and tightens his arms around me before whispering a word I can't quite hear because sleep is wrapping its warm arms around me. I drift off, secure in his arms and when I wake in the morning, it does not surprise me that I had no more nightmares that night, my first peaceful night of sleep since the Reaping._

I crack my eyes open, expecting to awaken to Peeta's smiling face and the warmth of his arms. Instead, I'm blinded by a brilliant white light and I'm aware of cool sheets underneath my hands and the low murmur of voices around me. I strain my ears, hoping to hear some of the conversation taking place around me.

" _Pregnant…didn't know…Peeta.."_

At these whispered snatches of conversation, I suddenly remember the last words I heard and my eyes fly open.

They told me I was pregnant. But that's not possible, is it? I've never…and then I remember the dream I just had, not a dream but a memory…the last night on the train after the Victory Tour, knowing that I hadn't been able to convince President Snow of my love for Peeta, terrified of what came next…Peeta came running in when I woke up screaming from the nightmares and then…

 _Oh no….._

"Katniss, you're awake." My mother appears in my line of vision, a strained expression on her face. She peers down at me, her eyes filled with worry. She presses one hand to my forehead, as if feeling for a fever. I push her hand away and struggle to sit up. I have to figure out what's going on.

"Mom…did you say that I was _pregnant_?" I ask, my eyes glancing around the room. I see that Mom, Haymitch, and Prim are all gathered around my hospital bed, identical looks of unease and uncertainty on their faces. I stare at them, waiting for someone to answer me.

"Well? Someone talk to me!" I demand. I'm glaring at my mother and Haymitch, but still they stand frozen at the side of my bed. Prim is the one who steps forward and as she starts to speak, I'm struck by how grown up she suddenly seems. She speaks clearly and calmly, there is no trace of the 12-year-old little girl who clung desperately to me at the Reaping as the Peacekeepers led me away.

"You're a little over three months pregnant, Katniss. Blood tests and an ultrasound confirmed it. The baby survived the explosion in the arena and seems fine." Prim says this steadily, as if there's nothing abnormal about this situation, as if she tells people they are pregnant every day.

"Oh God…" It's the only thing I can say as I let out the breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. The world has turned upside down and now there's going to be a baby added to the mix.

What am I going to do?

"Katniss, why didn't you and Peeta tell us before you went into the arena?" Haymitch seems to have found his voice and is staring down at me, waiting for an answer. As I look up at my mentor, I feel my anger return. How dare he do this to us, how dare he rescue me from the arena first when he had sworn to me that he would save Peeta, no matter what.

He lied.

"Peeta. Where is he?" I know the answer even before the question has fully left my mouth. He's still in the Capitol, he must be. Nothing else would prevent him from being at the side of my hospital bed.

"He's still in the Capitol, along with Johanna, Enobaria, and Annie Cresta."

My heart sinks, not only for Peeta, but for Johanna and Annie as well. I can't find it in myself to care about Enobaria's fate, as a District 2 tribute, she's unlikely to be in any danger. I doubt she or Brutus, any of the Careers for that matter, knew about the rebellion. But Johanna almost certainly did and as for Annie…I doubt Finnick would have told her anything in the hopes of protecting her if a situation like this ever arose. But Peeta didn't know anything about the rebellion either, and they took him anyway.

"Katniss!" I'm jerked from my thoughts by the sound of Haymitch's voice. "Katniss, why didn't you tell us about the baby?"

Oh God, the baby…I'd forgotten all about the baby. I lean back against my pillows and stare at the white blanket covering my legs, trying to find the right words.

"I didn't know until you all told me. What Peeta said to Cesare Flickerman… it was just an attempt to stop the Games. We didn't know…it was just once, on the train to the Quarter Quell…" I fall silent, not wanting to share my private memories of Peeta, not even with my mother, Haymitch, and Prim, who are without a doubt three of the most important people in my life. These are all I have left of Peeta and they are no one's business but mine.

My mother, Haymitch, and Prim stand silently for a minute, as if they need to absorb what I've just told them.

"So Peeta doesn't know about the baby?" Prim asks me, her face a mask of sadness.

I feel the burn of tears pressing against the backs of my eyes but I will not let myself cry. Now is not the time for tears.

"No. He doesn't know." I whisper, staring at that white blanket again. I can't look at the people gathered around me because it's becoming harder and harder to hold back the tears.

"Oh, Katniss..." Prim sits down next to me on the edge of my bed and takes my hand. "I'm so sorry, Katniss." Her eyes are wet with tears and she throws her arms around me and suddenly my face is in her hair and it's taking everything I have not to burst into tears. Poor Prim, I'm supposed to be the strong one, I'm supposed to protect her, not the other way around. But even so, just this once I let myself feel how good it is to be the once receiving comfort instead of giving it.

I could hold onto my sister forever but we're interrupted by Haymitch clearing his throat and we break apart, although Prim doesn't move from her spot on the bed, one hand still gripping mine.

"Katniss, now that you've been medically cleared, they're not going to leave you alone for much longer," Haymitch says. "Plutarch and Alma Coin, the President of 13 and leader of the rebellion, want to meet with you. They've been harassing the doctors about weaning you off sedation for days. They'll want an update." He pauses suddenly as if he's lost his train of thought. He shuffles his feet awkwardly before looking at me again.

"They'll want to talk about the baby and how it will affect the rebellion."

I don't know how to respond to that and luckily l'm saved from figuring it out by my mother, who suddenly speaks up, her voice firm.

"Well, they can't have her tonight," She declares. "She's just found out she's having a baby and her body is still weak from being under sedation. She needs a good night's rest before she discusses anything with anyone."

She marches past Haymitch and shoos Prim off my bed. She smooths my sheets and adjusts my pillows, before taking a small vial out of her pocket. After telling me to open my mouth, she tips the vial into my mouth. The taste is sweet and instantly familiar. Sleep syrup, the same thing I tricked Peeta into swallowing in the first arena so I could go to the feast and get the medicine needed to save his life. I feel instantly drowsy and know that I only have a few minutes before the syrup takes me under. I'm faintly aware of my mother ushering Haymitch and Prim from my room and turning off the lights before following the out the door.

I turn onto my side and only then do I let myself briefly think about the baby. This baby, Peeta's baby, that survived the arena with me, I don't know how to feel about this baby. I know how Peeta would feel. He'd be excited, happy. He'd know what to do, how to handle this.

I can feel sleep beckoning me and I try to summon up the image of Peeta's face to take with me into sleep.

 _Oh, Peeta…you'd be so happy about this baby…if only you knew…_


	3. Chapter 3-Gale

**Gale**

 _Even stretched up on her toes to examine my snare hanging from the tree, the girl is small. Her dark hair is twisted into a braid and she wears an old leather jacket, a game sack at her feet. She has no idea that I've been watching her for the past ten minutes. I was making my daily run, checking my traps and snares when I stumbled upon this girl. I was surprised to see anyone else in the woods, let alone a young girl. I haven't yet decided whether she's trying to steal the rabbit out of my snare of if she's trying to figure out how the rabbit got up there to begin with. Her fingers are inching towards the wire above the rabbit when I decide it's time to make my presence known._

 _"That's dangerous, you know." My voice sends her leaping back several feet and she turns to face me. She's from the Seam, I can tell that immediately, the dark hair, olive skin, gray eyes, these are all characteristics of those born in the Seam, not Town. As I study her face, I recognize her._

 _She was in the Justice Building that day, receiving a medal right beside me. Her father died the same mine explosion that killed mine. I remember her mother and younger sister standing beside her, the mother had a blank, vacant expression on her face, the little blonde girl was clutching tightly to her older sister's hand. But even though I recognize her, I don't know her name. Honestly, it surprises me that I even remember her presence at the Justice Building. That entire day was nothing but a haze of pain for me, knowing that my father was gone, leaving two, soon to be three, little mouths to feed. My mother could only do so much, I knew it was my job now. It was my job to take care of my family now that my father was gone._

 _I walked over to her and began to untangle my snare._

 _"What's your name?" I asked as my fingers worked to disengage the rabbit from the snare._

 _"Catnip." She whispers._

 _Catnip? What kind of weird name is that? I think as I free the rabbit from the snare and tuck into my belt beside the other three I've caught today._

 _"Well, Catnip, stealing's punishable by death, or hadn't you heard?"_

 _"My name is Katniss, not Catnip," She says in a slightly louder voice. "And I wasn't stealing anything, I just wanted to look at your snare. Mine never catch anything." She keeps her eyes on me as she speaks and I study her in return, not entirely convinced. I know what hunger can do to people, drive them to desperate things that they would never do under normal circumstances. And now that I'm looking at her more carefully, I can see this girl is mere steps away from starvation. The signs are evident in the ashy tint to her skin, her hollow cheeks, her dry, cracked, and peeling lips._

 _"Where'd you get that squirrel then?" I ask, pointing to the game bag at her feet._

 _To my surprise, she tells me she shot it and pulls a bow off of her shoulder. I ask if I can see it and I can feel a smile creeping across my face when she hands her bow over, telling me to remember that stealing is punishable by death. She doesn't smile back, though and as I run my fingers over the bow, our talk to turns to hunting, as I imagine the kind of game I could bring home to my family or to trade in the Hob, if only I had a bow._

 _She tells me that she might be able to get a bow for me, but only if I have something to trade in return. Not food, she informs me. She wants me to teach her how to build traps and snares, so that she can catch her own game. I agree that something might be worked out._

 _As the seasons go by, we grow into a team of sorts. I teach her about snares and fishing, while she shows me what plants are safe to eat and eventually, she gives me one of her bows. We divide the work and share the game, making sure that both our families are fed._

 _Eventually we become friends, confiding in each other and sharing our secrets. When the Reaping rolls around, we promise each other that if one of us gets drawn as a tribute, the other one will make sure that the other's family is fed and taken care of. I don't trust many people but I trust Katniss when she says she will make sure my family survives. I have to trust her, because as many times as my name is in the Reaping Ball, the odds are not in my favor._

 _Even so, it takes months before I'm able to coax a smile onto her face._

This is what I'm thinking about when the doctor from 13 comes into the waiting room and tells us that Katniss is pregnant. I keep thinking of that scared, yet proud 11-year-old little girl who didn't want to take game from me, didn't want to accept any kind of handout or charity, she just wanted me to teach her how she could do it on her own. I cannot reconcile that brave little girl with the Katniss, the pregnant Katniss, that the doctor is presenting to us now.

"Patient Everdeen is a little over three months pregnant." The doctor says and the words feel like a slap across my face.

Katniss is pregnant. And there's no way it can be mine. We've only ever kissed twice, that time in the woods after she returned from the first Games and then the hazy memory of the kiss she gave me while I lay on her kitchen table, my flesh sizzling as if it were on fire and I was ready to die to make the pain stop, until I felt her lips on mine.

And if the baby isn't mine, then it can only be Peeta Mellark's.

At this realization, a sharp pain enters my chest and begins to spread throughout my entire body. I feel myself sinking back into the chair I had just vacated, my head falls into my hands, and I'm vaguely aware of a something that sounds like the noise of an animal in severe pain. It takes me a few minutes to realize that I'm the one making those horrible animal noises, I don't recognize the sounds coming from my own body or the sobs that are wracking me from head to toe. I am not this kind of man, I do not react like this, I do not all apart.

I start counting backward from 100 and tell myself that when I reach the number one, I will have myself under control. To my relief, when I reach the end of my counting, the dry sobs are no longer shaking my body and I'm able to lift my head from my hands and I discover that I'm alone in the waiting room. Mrs. Everdeen, Prim, and Haymitch must be with Katniss. I get to my feet and start towards the door that the doctor came out of, the door that must lead to Katniss, before stopping myself.

Katniss is pregnant with a child that is not mine. I'm not her mother or her sister, I'm not her mentor and I'm certainly not that baby's father. There is no place for me in that room.

Instead, I open the door that leads out of the waiting room and back into 13. The corridors of District 13 are bare right now, it's the middle of the day, everyone will be in their assigned places. I glance down at the inked schedule on my arm and notice that I'm supposed to be in nuclear history class right now. I've done a pretty good job of adhering to my schedule, even though having every minute of my life planned out to the last second was hard to adjust to. But there's no way I can go back to class and pretend that everything is normal. Not after what I've just heard. Not after hearing that the girl I love is carrying another man's child.

I find myself heading towards the compartment I share with the rest of my family. I'm almost certain it will be empty, my brothers and Posy will be at school, my mother will be at work in the laundry division where she was assigned to work. I'll have the privacy I need to absorb the news I've just heard. When I reach the compartment, I open the door and am greeted by nothing but silence. I was right, the compartment is empty.

I sit down at one of the five chairs at our government issued table, close my eyes and begin to think of Katniss.

She's pregnant. With Peeta Mellark's baby. I can count on one hand the number of interactions I've had with Peeta Mellark in my entire life. We've never actually exchanged words, he was younger than me in school, the most we've ever done is nodded at each other when he answered my knock at the back door of the bakery when I came to trade squirrels with his father.

Until the Games, I never gave a second though to Peeta Mellark. And then it took everything in me to watch him with Katniss. If I'd thought that watching him kissing Katniss in the cave during the first Games was hard, watching the Quarter Quell was unbearable. I could see that Katniss was falling in love with him and as Finnick Odair worked to save Peeta Mellark's life after he hit the force field, a very small part of me hoped that Odair wouldn't be able to save him. Because then Katniss would be free of him, free to come back to me and what we once had, what I hoped we'd have in the future.

Until the Games, I'd never had a bad thought or feeling towards Peeta Mellark but if he were standing in front of me right now, I would kill him.

 _What was she doing with him?_ A little voice inside my head whispers. She did chose me, didn't she? After the whipping, when she kissed me and declared that she wasn't going to run into the woods, she'd chosen to me, chosen to stay and fight with me over Mellark and the Capitol's demands.

And now she turns up in District 13, pregnant with his kid.

Three months pregnant, I remember the doctor saying, as I start counting the months back and I realize that this baby was conceived after my whipping, after the announcement of the Quarter Quell, after she swore to stay and fight, after she swore to stay with _me_. Even so,for a brief moment, I feel a small hope in my chest that maybe this baby isn't the end of my chance with Katniss, maybe there's still hope for us. And then reality smacks me in the face and I realize that even if Katniss did chose me, even if she wants to be with me, she will forever be connected to Mellark through that child. This baby will change everything. Nothing will ever be the same after this baby is born.

There was no place for around Katniss's hospital bed and maybe there wouldn't be a place for me in her life anymore.

This thought makes my throat tighten and I jump out of my chair, shaking the thought away. The idea of not being a part of Katniss's life anymore is too much to deal with on top of everything else that has been revealed today.

I need to get out and do something, but I don't want to go sit in class and I haven't been assigned a job yet. For a fleeting moment, I worry that there is no place for me in District Thirteen either, nowhere for me to channel all the anger and rage I feel at Katniss's pregnancy, at Mellark for doing this to her, at the Capitol for burning my home to the ground, into something decent and productive.

And then it hits me and I'm out the door, walking swiftly towards my destination.

When I first arrived in Thirteen, I was taken to a room called the Command Center and introduced to the President of District 13, Alma Coin, and Plutarch Heavensbee, former Head Gamemaker and rebel sympathizer. They were impressed with my rescue of people from District 12, they told me, and wanted to offer me a position in their military. They said they could a man like me, that the Revolution could use a man like me, that it needed me.

I refused. I was too worried about Katniss, too angry about the bombing of District 12, to want to cooperate with anyone. But now…maybe this is just what I need.

I arrive at the Command Center and step inside the doorway, taking in the sight of the busy room, the technology the keeps track of troop movement in the districts, the table of control panels. This is where I'm meant to be, I tell myself.

President Coin suddenly appears in front of me, looking exactly the same as she did when I saw her a month ago.

"Gale Hawthorne. This is area is prohibited to everyone except soldiers and even then, only those with approved military clearance are allowed inside." She says this quietly, as she gazes at me with a disinterested expression, as if I'm a small, annoying object that needs to be removed immediately. Well, if that's how she feels, she's in for a surprise.

I don't let myself think, not about Katniss, the baby, Peeta Mellark, the bombing and burning of my home or even my family. Instead, I raise my hand to my temple in a perfect salute.

"Soldier Hawthorne reporting for duty, ma'am."


	4. Chapter 4-Peeta

**Peeta**

 _Something has gone wrong._

 _I don't know how and I don't know what, but I do know that something in Beetee's plan has gone terribly wrong._

 _The wire that is supposed to connect to the tree and electrify the beach has been cut and Finnick went running to see what has gone wrong, to find Johanna and Katniss. I tried to go but Beetee still needed a guard and Finnick convinced me that I couldn't make it down the slope to the beach on my Capitol given prosthetic leg._

 _I should have never let them split us up, I realize. I should have gone with her. After our conversation on the beach, I know that she is planning that I will be the only one that survives this time, she plans on only one person leaving the arena. Me._

 _And I refuse to let that happen._

 _I will not let her die for me. What I said to her on the beach was true. If she dies and I live, there will be no life for me back in District 12. She is everything to me, my past, present, and future. If she dies and I live, I will have nothing left. I will become like Haymitch, using liquor to numb my pain and escape the world, just waiting to die so that I can join her in the afterlife._

 _And it will not be only me that suffers if she dies. Her mother, Prim, Gale Hawthorne (the man who, when I think of him taking my place with Katniss, being with her, marrying her and having kids with her, makes me physically sick), and even Haymitch will never recover. If I die, my family and friends would mourn for me, but they would recover, move on with their lives. But if Katniss Everdeen dies, her mother and sister will not survive. Gale will never recover. Haymitch will not recover._

 _ **I will not recover.**_

 _It is this thought that spurs me into action and I'm running down the slope as fast as my leg will let me, deaf to Beetee's cries to stop, to stay with him. I have one mission now and it is not to stay and guard Beetee. It is to find the girl I love and make sure that she stays alive._

 _"Katniss! Katniss!" I'm tearing down the slope, screaming for her, when I hear screams echoing through the jungle and I stop in my tracks. I can't tell if the screams belong to Katniss and then I hear footsteps and voices coming towards me and I drop to the ground, seeking safety behind a large green fern, unsure if the voices belong to allies or Careers._

 _"The Everdeen girl is dead and if she's not dead already, she will be soon. That only leaves Mason, Odair, Chaff, Mellark, and Volts from 3." I recognize the voice, it belongs to Brutus, the volunteer from District 2 who couldn't wait to get back into the arena. And he must be talking to Enobaria, the bloodthirsty female tribute from District 2. An involuntary shudder goes down my spine when I recall Haymitch telling me that she had her teeth surgically filed into fangs specifically so she could rip out the throats of her opponents._

 _And Brutus told Enobaria that the Everdeen girl was dead._

 _Oh God, did the cannon fire and I missed it as I raced through the jungle? Have I already failed in my duty to protect her?_

 _"You find Chaff, Odair, and Volts. I'll go after Mason and I'll take care of her and then I'll find Mellark and I'll send him the same way as his little girlfriend. It'll be easier if we split up." Enobaria is talking now, talking about hunting people down and I don't even care that she's set her sights on me, I'm so worried for Katniss. Brutus agrees and from my hidden viewpoint, I see Enobaria continue on straight, heading towards the lightning tree, while Brutus turns around and goes back the way he just came from. I decide to follow him, hoping that he will lead me to Katniss._

 _I give Brutus a 30 second head start before I take off after him, trying my best to move as quietly as imaginable, a near impossibility with my prosthetic, which I still haven't fully learned to control after nearly a year. I can only hope that the noises of the jungle will drown out any sounds I may be making._

 _I'm so focused on where I'm putting my feet, determined not to fall and slow myself up, that I don't hear the crashing of feet through the underbrush. I don't even register that there's someone heading towards us, so when Chaff comes hurtling out of the trees towards Brutus, I'm completely caught off guard._

 _Chaff has a wild look on his face, his wetsuit is dirty and ripped in places, and he has a smear of blood on his face. His eyes lock onto my face and he's motioning with his hands and shouting at me._

 _"Peeta! No! Go back!" Chaff is yelling, screaming as loudly as he can, but before I can figure out why Chaff is telling me to go back, a spear goes sailing through the air and buries itself in Chaff's chest, directly at the place where his heart lies._

 _Chaff's eyes roll back into his head and he drops to the ground, as Brutus walks over to his fallen body and pulls the spear from his chest. The cannon fires and then Brutus turns around and, as if noticing me for the first time, plasters a deadly smirk on his face. He raises the hand gripping his spear, positioning his arm, preparing to launch the spear at me, when I'm suddenly filled with a terrible rage and a blast of adrenaline._

 _This man wants to kill me and I will not let him, not until I'm sure that Katniss is safe. If he kills me now, he or Enobaria will find Katniss and kill her, if they haven't done so already. With this thought, I run and launch myself at Brutus, knocking him to the ground, causing his spear to go flying out of his reach._

 _We are rolling on the jungle floor, a whirling ball of punches and kicks, choking and eye gouging, locked together in a deathly struggle. Brutus is bigger than I am but he's also older and in that split second I launched myself at him, I caught him by surprise. As he lands a crippling punch to my face, I bring my bent leg up and knee him directly in the groin, while at the same time delivering a hard chop to his windpipe. The combined pain of the injuries causes Brutus to release his hold on me, giving me the perfect opportunity to grab my knife. I put my knees on the tops of his thighs, making sure that all my weight is focused on pinning him down and then I drive my knife into his heart, only to yank the knife back out and repeatedly stab him. Blood is flying everywhere, landing on my face, my lips, my hair, turning the scene in front of my eyes to red. It is not until the sound of the cannon fires into my consciousness that I realize that Brutus is dead and I look down to find that I am simply defiling a corpse._

 _I roll off Brutus's body and sit back on my heels, breathing hard, staring at the body of my former enemy. At any other time, I would think about how I am, once again, in a position I never wanted to be in, killing another human being, just another pawn in the Capitol's deadly games. But there's no time for that now because suddenly I hear Katniss's voice and she is screaming for me._

 _"Peeta! Peeta! Where are you?!"_

 _I pull my knife from Brutus's body and wipe the blade clean on my shirt, tuck it back into my boot, and I am up and running, as fast as I possibly can, towards the sound of her voice._

 _"Peeta!" Her voice is frantic._

 _"Katniss! Katniss! I'm coming, Katniss!"_

 _When she yells back, I can tell by the tone of her voice that she has heard my yells._

 _"Peeta! Hurry Peeta!"_

 _I am running faster than I have ever run in my life, desperate to reach Katniss. I'm thinking that I'm almost there, that I'm finally going to reach her, that I'm finally going to be with her again, when I hear a crack of lightning. I look up just in time to see lightning strike the magnificent tree, sending up a brilliant flash of white, when I'm knocked backwards by the force of an explosion._

 _My body feels like it's on fire, I'm certain that my prosthetic leg has been wrenched out of place and as I try to sit up and get to my feet, I find that my body seems to be paralyzed, unable to respond to my brain's commands._

 _Katniss's face appears before my eyes and I try with everything in me to sit up, to stand up, to go to her._

 _I'm not ready to give up, but I'm suddenly aware of that fact that my surroundings are beginning to blur and spots of color are dancing before my eyes. I lift my head up and just before I lose consciousness, I see a spark and then suddenly…_

 _The sky explodes._

"Mellark! On your feet!"

The sharp bark of the Peacekeepers' voices wakes me from the half-awake, half-asleep state that I've been dozing in since my arrival in the Capitol. I had been dreaming of Katniss and our last talk on the beach, the look in her eyes when I told her that no one needed me, the way my heart jumped in my chest when she said that she needed me, the way she leaned in and kissed me, how real it felt.

"Move it, boy!"

The Peacekeepers yank me up off the cold floor where I've been sitting and roughly shove my arms behind my back and then cuff my wrists together before marching me out of the small dark room that I've been staying in since I was released from the Capitol's hospital. To my surprise, I had no lasting or serious injuries from the explosion in the arena, only minor cuts and bruises. I left the hospital with nothing but a Peacekeeper escort to my room, wearing black pants and a white shirt, a lot of unanswered questions and a head full of confusion. I have no idea how I ended up in the Capitol, I don't know what caused the explosion in the arena, I don't know what happened to the other tributes and, most painful of all, I don't know what happened to Katniss, where she is, or even if she's alive or dead. I've been fighting so hard to stay in that half-awake/half-asleep state because I don't want to let myself think about the possibility that Katniss is dead. I don't dare let myself imagine a world without Katniss in it.

The Peacekeepers march me down a long, dark hallway, the walls of which are painted blood red and the plush carpet underneath my feet matches the walls. It's as if I'm walking down a hallway of blood and suddenly I remember the eyes of the doglike mutts in the first games, how their eyes were exactly like that of the dead tributes, and for one horrible minute, I think that this hallway and carpet are covered in the blood of dead tributes.

 _Get a grip, Mellark!_ I mentally chide myself. I don't know where these Peacekeepers are taking me, but I do know that in order to stay alive, I need to be mentally sharp, so I do my best to shake off the thought of my fellow tributes' blood covering the walls and carpet. And just in time because the Peacekeepers have stopped in front of a set of dark wood double doors. One of the Peacekeepers knocks on the doors, three sharp, short knocks. The doors are opened immediately and I'm escorted into a large, opulent room. The walls are covered with gold hangings, the flag of Panem is hanging on the far wall, behind a polished wooden desk and behind that desk sits the president of Panem himself, Coriolanus Snow.

I recognize him immediately, even though I've only seen him in person a few times. It's hard to forget that shock of white hair, the puffy lips that can only be the result of Capitol surgery enhancement, and those snakelike eyes.

"Ah, Peeta Mellark. Just the man I've been wanting to see." President Snow rises from his seat behind the desk, a twisted smile on his face. Being this close to him, seeing that grotesque face, suddenly being hit with smell of blood intermixed with the suffocating smells of roses, I now know why Katniss was so afraid during the Victory Tour.

He motions me forward, indicating that I should take the seat in front of his desk, telling the Peacekeepers to leave us. The doors slam shut behind them and I somehow instinctively know that if I were to get up and race for the doors, I would find them locked. I am trapped here, completely at the mercy of President Snow.

He settles himself behind the desk and looks at me speculatively, the way an eagle must eye the mouse it's about to devour, as he brings his hands together and claps them underneath this chin.

"Peeta Mellark. The baker's boy. That's what they call you, isn't it?" He asks.

My throat suddenly tightens up and it takes a minute to answer.

"Yes, sir."

The president smiles at me, as if he can sense the tension that is rolling through my body and is enjoying my discomfort.

"I imagine that you have many questions as to what happened in the Quarter Quell, how you came to be a guest in the Capitol, and what has become of your fellow tributes."

I nod, wanting nothing more than to know that Katniss is alive and safe.

"And I'll be more than happy to answer your questions," President Snow says, a curious look in his eyes. "But first, let me make the same agreement with you that I made with Miss Everdeen before the start of your Victory Tour. Things will be so much simpler if we agree not to lie to each other, don't you agree?"

I stare at him for a minute, wondering what he possibly thinks I have to lie about. He's the President of Panem, he knows everything, so I nod.

"Good, good." He leans back in his chair and stares at me. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Okay, this I can answer. I don't have to worry about whether or not I'm telling the truth.

"An explosion. I was looking for Katniss and lightning hit the tree. And then something exploded and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital."

Snow smiles knowingly before answering me.

"The explosion was caused because someone blew out the force field surrounding the arena. Specifically, Katniss Everdeen blew out the force field, Mr. Mellark. Why do you think she did that?"

I am silent, struggling for an answer. Why would Katniss have blown out the force field? I can't think of any reason.

"She didn't know what she was doing." My answer sounds uncertain, even to my own ears. It's not a lie, but I don't know if it's the truth, either. Did she know what she was doing and if she did, why would she have intentionally shattered the arena's force field?

"You don't think she knew what she was doing? Would your opinion change if I told that Katniss Everdeen was picked up out of the arena by a group of radicals and is at this very moment, right now in District 13 plotting to overthrow the Capitol?" Snow says this quietly and calmly, his eyes never leaving my face.

Everything he says rushes at me and it takes me a minute to comprehend everything he says. I can't decide what is true and what is not true. I'll start with the most obvious. There is no District 13. It was obliterated by the Capitol during the Dark Days.

"There is no District 13." I say, wondering what kind of mind game the President is playing.

Snow chuckles darkly. "How I wish we had been able to destroy them. Unfortunately, that did not happen and we reached an impasse. I'm sure you learned in school that District 13's primary industry was nuclear technology. They made our weapons, our stockpile of nuclear weapons was stored in District 13."

He glances at me as if to make sure that I'm paying attention before he continues.

"District 13 was a strong force in the rebellion of the Dark Days. They continued to fight long after the other districts were defeated. There was a standoff. We had our weapons pointed at them and they had the nuclear weapons stored there pointed at us. A bargain was struck. We would leave them alone as long as they did not strike out against the Capitol. But they would be completely cut off from the rest of Panem. For the past 75 years, our agreement has worked rather well. Or so we thought."

At this point, he stands up from his chair and walks over to the flag of Panem hanging on the wall, studying it for a minute before turning around to face me.

"Unbeknownst to the Capitol, District 13 has been planning to lead another uprising and they have managed to make contacts in the Capitol. My Head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee, has fled to District 13, along with his assistant Fulvia Cardew. Ironically, they escaped on the same hovercraft that was used to pull Miss Everdeen from the arena."

He sits back down behind his desk and takes a long drink of water from the glass sitting beside him. When he finishes and sets the glass back down, I notice that the water now has a slight red tint to it. I start to puzzle over why the water in his glass would suddenly appear red, when he shocks me with his next words.

"And now, Mr. Mellark, I need you to tell me everything you know about the radicals and their plans for an uprising."

I stare at him, stunned. Radicals, uprisings, District 13 is alive and planning to overthrow the Capitol? This is all news to me. Up until five minutes ago, I believed that District 13 was annihilated by the Capitol during the Dark Days. That's what we were taught in school, that's what the reports on TV said, showing the still smoldering remains of the district, telling us that it was still too unsafe from the nuclear fumes to be rebuilt. Why would I have any reason to think differently?

"I don't know anything about an uprising." I say and to my surprise, Snow smiles at me. It's not a comforting smile, if it could even be called a smile and not just a twisting of his grotesque lips.

"I believe you, Mr. Mellark. However, I do not believe that Miss Everdeen was as unaware as you are. Indeed, it appears that she knew all along, with every move she made in the arena a part of the radicals' plan, right up until the moment she shattered the force field. Interesting, that she is with radicals now, but you were left in the arena to be picked up by the Capitol…don't you think?"

My heart sinks as his implication becomes clear. He is suggesting that Katniss was involved with the rebels and their uprising, planning to be rescued all along, while leaving me at the mercy of the Capitol. For just a moment, I feel a flicker of uncertainty and then I remember the devastated look on Katniss's face when I volunteered for Haymitch, the tears that rolled down her face as she kissed me when Finnick brought me back to life after I hit the force field, the desperate look in her eyes as we said goodbye at the lightning tree.

No. I may be unsure about whether or not Katniss truly loves me, but I do know that she is incapable of turning her back on someone and leaving them to die. She would never do that to me, no matter what Snow believes.

"Katniss didn't know about the uprising. Neither of us knew anything about it."

President Snow leans forward and studies me for a moment before replying.

"Uprisings lead to war. Do you know what a war will do to this country, Mr. Mellark?"

I shake my head, although I have some idea. The Dark Days had nearly destroyed the country and the districts paid dearly for their rebellion because out of it was born the Hunger Games, and districts were forced to send two of their children to a gruesome death every year. It is anyone's guess what horrific torture the Capitol would inflict upon the districts this time as a punishment for uprising.

"It will destroy Panem. When this country rose out of the ashes, it was a bitter fight for survival. If it wasn't for the Capitol and the protection it gives to the districts, they would have never survived. If the Capitol is destroyed, what do you think will happen to the districts?"

He doesn't wait for me to answer, instead he places both palms on his desk and leans forward. The scent of blood and roses is overwhelming and I have to fight back the urge to gag and cover my nose.

"Thousands upon thousands of people will die. Thousands upon thousands of _your_ people will die. The people in your district. Your family. Your friends. Miss Everdeen. Do you want them to die, Peeta Mellark?"

The picture he paints with his words is terrifying. It's the stuff that nightmares, specifically my nightmares, are made of. The idea of losing Katniss, of somehow being responsible for her death is horrifying. To learn that Katniss is alive and in the next breath hear the most powerful man in the country threaten her life is unbearable.

"No. I don't want anyone to die." I say in a hoarse voice as I lift my eyes up to the president's face. The look on his face tells me that he has me right where he wants me.

"I didn't think so." He leans back in his chair and looks at me before continuing. "If you want to keep your loved ones safe, then you will do exactly as I say from this point forward. Do you understand me?"

I nod.

"Let me tell you what is going to happen next. You are going to sit down and give an interview with Caesar Flickerman. In this interview, you are going to say exactly what you are told to say, nothing more and nothing less. You are going to shut down this uprising or you, and everyone you love, will suffer the consequences."

I stare at President Snow's face as he waits for my answer and a war rages in my mind. I want to tell him no, that I will not bend to his will, that I won't let him turn me into the Capitol's puppet. But there is too much depending on this. The lives of my family and friends. Katniss's life. I won't risk her life. I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

So I do the only thing possible. I look into the snakelike eyes of Panem's president and say yes, that I will do whatever he wants, as a little voice in the back of my mind tells me that I have just made a terrible mistake. A mistake that I, or someone I love, will end up paying dearly for.


	5. Chapter 5-Haymitch

Haymitch

Here's the thing about being a functioning alcoholic. You don't realize how much your ability to function depends on having that constant presence of alcohol in your bloodstream…until you're deprived of that alcohol.

And I could really use some of that alcohol right now, if only to distract myself from the screeching voice of Plutarch Heavensbee.

"We cannot do this without Katniss Everdeen! She is the Mockingjay, she is the face of this revolution, without her as a symbol to unite the districts, there will not _be_ a revolution!" Plutarch shouts from the head of the table, his assistant Fulvia Cardew sits beside him, nodding her head earnestly, making the silver flowers carved into her cheeks seem to wink.

Plutarch looks around at the rest of us seated at the table, waiting for someone to agree. It's an odd group that has convened around this table in the Command Center, a mixture of 'rebels' from the Capitol, soldiers from District 13, Beetee, who was wheeled out of the hospital in his hospital bed as soon as he was deemed fit and taken straight to Special Weaponry. I haven't seen him since, except in these meetings. Aside from the Capitol rebels, soldiers from 13, and Beetee, there is also myself and Gale Hawthorne, who I note interestingly, is now wearing one of those obnoxious wrist things called a communicuff. Huh. I thought he had turned down the 'prestigious' offer to serve in Thirteen's military, although how would I know? I haven't seen or spoken to the boy since that day two weeks ago when the bombshell of Katniss's pregnancy was dropped, aside from these 'strategy' meetings.

I cannot count how many of these meetings I have been dragged into since Katniss awoke and I was given the less than pleasant task of telling President Alma Coin and Plutarch that there was a slight complication with their would-be Mockingjay.

 _"Pregnant?! What do you mean the girl is pregnant?!" As soon as I walked through the door of the Command Center that day, I was accosted by Plutarch and Coin, eager to know every detail about the Mockingjay's current state of health. It took less than a minute after my announcement for Plutarch to start shouting._

 _I run a hand over my eyes and sink into the nearest empty chair. It is too late in the day for this and I am too sober. I'm in no mood to listen to Plutarch's anxious babbling while Coin just sits there, silent and staring at me with her colorless eyes._

 _"I thought the baby story was just a lie that Mellark told to try and stop the Quell!" The louder Plutarch's voice gets, the higher his tone gets. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard and does nothing to ease the pounding headache that is forming in my brain._

 _I sigh. "That's what we all thought. They didn't know, apparently. The doctor told us and we broke the news to Katniss. She was genuinely shocked, so shocked that she passed out."_

 _Plutarch groans and throws his hands into the air. "What will we do now? We can't have a pregnant Mockingjay!"_

 _He is so upset by this news that his face has turned a dangerous shade of purple and a vein is throbbing furiously at his temple. If the situation wasn't so serious, it would be funny to see the former Head Gamemaker so flustered._

 _"Why weren't we informed of this earlier?" Coin asks, her gaze locked on me, as if it's my fault that two foolish teenagers have gotten themselves pregnant in the midst of revolution, destroying all her plans._

 _And maybe she's right. Maybe it is my fault. Maybe I should have paid more attention to what was going on during the Victory Tour. I knew that they were sharing a bed, Effie had informed me of that, saying that the Capitol servants on the train were beginning to take notice and that she had asked them to be a little more discreet. I just brushed off her concerns. I had heard Katniss screaming in her sleep. As a long-time sufferer of nightmares myself, I couldn't fault the girl for wanting peace in her sleep. And if having Peeta sleeping next to her gave her that peace, then I was not going to be the one to take away what little comfort she had. Maybe I should have paid more attention, shown more of an interest and concern for what was going on, instead of being completely wrapped up in plans for the rebellion. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this situation right now._

 _"The doctors didn't tell us about the pregnancy until about an hour ago,. I don't know why the doctors didn't tell us before now."_

 _I can tell by the look on Coin's face that this is not the answer she wanted._

 _"If we'd known about the pregnancy we could have terminated it and solved this problem immediately. Unfortunately, we're past that option now." Coin says in a flat voice, as if she's telling us what will be served for dinner tonight, instead of talking about ending a potential child's life. Plutarch and I both stare at her, speechless. Yes, even, I, who has spent the past twenty-five years trying to kill, or at the very least numb, every feeling I've ever had, finds the idea of terminating a pregnancy without the knowledge or consent of either parent appalling. Katniss may not know how she feels about this pregnancy right now and Peeta may not even know this baby exists but I know that Katniss will come around and I know that Peeta will love this kid beyond all imagination._

 _"Madam President, I know that this is a major setback but to terminate a pregnancy without consent…" Plutarch's voice trails off as if he can't even find the words to express his horror at the idea._

 _"As I said, it's no longer an option," Coin says as she walks over to stand in front of me. "Pregnant or not, Katniss Everdeen is a vital part of this revolution. I need her in command by 8 am tomorrow morning, no later." She waves her hand towards the door, indicating that I'm now dismissed, I am of no more use to her until I complete my assignment and bring her the Mockingjay._

 _The next morning, I escorted Katniss to Command at precisely 8:00. The meeting lasted a total of five minutes before Katniss walked out without saying a word. We found her an hour later in the education supply closet, hiding behind a stack of boxes, just sitting there in silence, a vacant expression on her face._

 _The next morning, I brought her to Command once again. She lasted fifteen minutes before walking out. It took two hours to find her that time, she was in the laundry room, surrounded by stacks of clean laundry._

 _Since then, we've gone through the same routine at least five times. As Katniss slipped out of the last meeting, Coin looked at Plutarch and said in a loud voice, "I told you we should have rescued the boy first."_

 _I saw Katniss stiffen as the words reached her ears and for a brief moment, I thought that it would be the push she needed to find her old self again. I was wrong. After giving herself a slight shake, she left the room._

 _I didn't go after her that time. Instead, I stayed behind and listened to Plutarch and Coin debate the stability of Katniss's mental health, as if either of them could possibly understand what that girl has been through._

 _"I told you she couldn't handle this. The Games destroyed her." Coin says with a tone of disgust._

 _"Yes, she can. She just needs the right motivation!" Plutarch shoots back._

 _I just sat there and wished for alcohol._

This is what led us to today's meeting. Coin is determined that this meeting will be the one where she finally gets through to Katniss. I was summoned to Command early this morning, although not as Katniss's escort. This time, Coin has sent Boggs, head of 13's security, to retrieve Katniss.

At that precise moment, Boggs and Katniss walk through the door. Boggs takes his usual place beside Coin and Katniss slides into the chair across the table from me, casting a brief glance in my direction before turning her gaze to the table. Even though I was the one who brought her to these meetings, we have not actually spoken since that day in the hospital when I broke the news of her impending motherhood. She is still angry at me for not saving Peeta and I am still mad at her for letting him out of her sight that night. As angry as I am at her, nothing compares to the guilt, anger, and hatred I feel towards myself for sending them into the Quell unware of the rebels' plans, for failing to protect them, for being unable to save him.

President Coin stands at the head of the table and clears her throat, raising her hand for silence, even though no one is talking. She looks at Katniss, who raises her head and meets Coin's eyes steadily.

"Miss Everdeen…once again I would like to welcome you to District Thirteen. I cannot tell you how glad we are that you're here. And I'm so sorry for what you've been through. I can't imagine what it would be like to live through the horrors of those Games."

Katniss says nothing, just keeps her eyes on Coin. Although I can't quite figure out how I feel about Coin, I must give her credit for admitting that she knows nothing about the Games. Too many people act as if they know exactly what was it like to live through that arena, simply because they were forced to watch the Games on TV. As if that's comparable to experiencing those atrocities first hand.

"I wish we could give more time to recover, especially in light of your…" Coin's voice trails off as she struggles to find the right word. She settles for 'situation' and tells Katniss that unfortunately there's simply no more time for recovery.

"We are making history here, Katniss." Plutarch breaks in. "Ever since you destroyed the arena's force field, the entire nation has been electrified. There have been uprisings, riots, and strikes in seven districts. Seven districts!" Plutarch's eyes light up, as if he can't contain his joy at the thought of this social disturbance.

Coin nods in agreement. "This is a great opportunity for us. If we can keep this energy going, we believe that we can unify the districts against the Capitol." She pauses for emphasis before continuing. "But if we don't use this energy, if we let it dissolve., we could be waiting another 75 years for an opportunity like this. Everyone in Thirteen is ready for this. Panem is ready for this."

Katniss is silent for so long that I start to think that this is going to be another useless meeting and I'm considering walking out myself when she finally speaks.

"What about Peeta? Is she alive?" She looks around the table, waiting for someone to answer her. But how can we?

Plutarch finally speaks up.

"I don't know. I wish that I did. But there's no way for me to contact my people inside the Capitol."

Beetee is the next to speak up. "The Capitol has always suppressed communications between the districts. But I designed their broadcast system and I was able to break into it. If we had a message to show, all of Panem would see it."

Plutarch agrees. "We just need the perfect message. We need to show the people of Panem that the Mockingjay is alive and well and ready to fight. Because we need every district to stand up to that Capitol. Just like you did."

He goes on to explain that he wants to shoot 'propos' featuring the Mockingjay. He intends to use them to spread the word and to 'stoke the fires of rebellion'.

I almost snort, I'm trying so hard to restrain myself from mocking his dramatic wording. Plutarch might be a 'rebel' but everything about him, including the way he speaks, marks him as a pampered citizen of the Capitol.

"You left him there." Katniss's whisper is soft but everyone at the table manages to catch it.

"You _left_ him in that arena to _die_." Her voice is getting louder now and I see the look of uncertainty that passes between Plutarch and Coin.

"Katniss, there were so many factors, so many- "Plutarch doesn't get very far before Katniss cuts him off by slamming the palm of her hand onto the table.

" _Peeta_ was the one who was supposed to live! Not me! It was his turn to be saved!" She yells and I smile inwardly despite myself. There she is, just a quick glimpse, but there's the Girl on Fire.

"Miss Everdeen. This revolution is about everyone, it's about all of us. Not just you. And we need a voice." Coin's voice is sharp enough to cut glass. Inwardly, I laugh, knowing that she's doing nothing but making Katniss even more defensive.

"Then you should have saved Peeta!" Katniss all but screams. "You should have saved him, not me! We knew nothing about this revolution! You all had plans that we didn't know about! How can I even trust that you're not secretly working for the Capitol? How do I know that we're on the same side?"

At this, Plutarch and Coin both begin to speak, voices rising and falling, throwing out numbers, scenarios, anything to convince Katniss. I don't know what they're thinking. I know from personal experience that you cannot force Katniss to do anything she doesn't want to do. She does not trust easily and certainly not on words alone. It's the reason I gave Finnick the gold bracelet that Effie had given me before he went into the arena. I knew that Katniss would not accept being allies on his words alone. She needed some tangible proof before she could believe him. For someone as distrustful as Katniss, seeing is believing.

 _Seeing is believing…_

And that's when it hits me. For Katniss, seeing is believing. Katniss needs to see what the Capitol is capable of, she needs to see what we're fighting for. Otherwise, she'll never believe that we're all on the same side.

"She needs to see Twelve."

At the sound of my voice, Plutarch and Coin stop speaking and Katniss, along with everyone else, turns her head in my direction.

"She needs to see what the Capitol did to District 12 or you'll never have your Mockingjay. She needs to see it for herself." The words have no sooner left my mouth before everyone starts talking.

"No, it's too dangerous!"

"I can't sanction that, especially not in her condition."

"She won't be able to handle it."

To my surprise, it's Plutarch who agrees with me. He throws his hands up in the air and starts shouting.

"Let's do it. If it'll convince her that we're all on the same side, then let her go. It's better than spending another month in useless meetings."

Coin glares at me before turning to Boggs, who has been entirely silent up until now.

"How can we do this as safely as possible?" She asks him.

Boggs takes a moment before answering.

"We keep eyes on her from the air, give her a head set to keep the line of communication open. Use radar detectors to let us know if there's anyone coming and pull her out at the first sign of trouble."

It's obvious that this plan does not sit well with Coin, but the decision has been taken out of her hands. Everyone at the table is nodding in agreement, even Hawthorne, who has spent the entire meeting looking like a man carved out of stone.

"Fine." Coin says in a deadly calm voice. "But no longer than an hour and you pull her out of there if there's even a suspicion of trouble. And I want a briefing meeting the minute you return." She looks around the table, a scowl on her face. "This meeting is dismissed!"

Katniss is the first person out of her seat and through the door, so I jump up and follow her. She's angry at me and I'm not thrilled with but the sooner we get this conversation over with, the better it is for everyone.

"Katniss! Wait!" I know she hears me and I'm a little surprised when she immediately stops and turns around, waiting for me to catch up to her.

"Let's get this over with." I say as I take her arm and push her into an empty room across the hall. We each take a seat at the table that sits in the middle of the room and for a long moment, we simply look at each other.

"We're going to have to work together again. So, let's go ahead and get it all out the table. Go ahead and say it." I'm the first to speak, because I know she will never make the first move.

She doesn't hesitate. "I can't believe you didn't rescue Peeta."

There's nothing I can do except reply. "I know."

We sit in silence for a few minutes, although I know it won't last. We made a deal that night, the night of the reading of the Quarter Quell card. We made a deal and it doesn't matter that we were both drunk and in pain, it was still a deal. A deal we both failed keep.

"Now you say it." She tells me.

"I can't believe you let him out of your sight that night." I answer.

She nods and an expression of pure pain crosses her face. "I think about it all the time. I try to figure out what I could have done to keep us from being split up without breaking the alliance. But I can never find an answer."

"You didn't have a choice. None of us did. I couldn't make Plutarch stay and rescue him without putting the rest of us at risk. We barely got out in time as it was." Her eyes meet mine and I know that if I were to look in a mirror, I would see the exact same eyes staring back at me. Gray Seam eyes, the sleepless nights evident in the deep purple circles underneath her eyes.

"He's not dead yet. We're still in the game Katniss."

She's not looking at me anymore, she is gazing off to the side, I know that she's a thousand miles away, back in that arena with him.

"I should have been able to save him. He should be here. Especially now…" Her voice trails off as she gestures towards her stomach.

And there it is. The thing that we've all talked around, but not about, the elephant in the room. Her pregnancy. This kid is coming into the world in less than six months, this kid that absolutely no one is ready for. The kid's mother is being dragged into being the figurehead for this revolution and the father…the father is trapped in the Capitol, most likely being tortured for information he doesn't have, unware that he's about to become a father.

"Katniss…" I start to speak but then I stop because there's nothing anyone can stay to her to make this better. She is a pregnant teenager, the boy she loves, the father of her baby, is being held by the enemy and an entire nation is looking to her to lead them through a revolution. Even for someone as strong as Katniss Everdeen, it's a lot to handle.

"He should be here, Haymitch. He should know about this." Her voice breaks at the end of her sentence and I know that it's taking everything she has not to completely break down. I can't let that happen. If she breaks down now, it might not be possible to put the pieces back together.

"Hey. Look at me." I lean across the table and look her straight in the eyes. "We're still in the game. And I'm still your mentor. We're going to get through this."

She gives me a watery sort of half smile before standing up and walking towards the door.

"When we go to Twelve tomorrow, you'll be on the ground and I'll be in the air. I'll have a better view, so make sure you listen to me and do as I say."

She nods and turns to leave but I can't let her go without saying one last thing.

"Katniss. We're going to get him back."

She stops and gives a swift jerk of her head that I suppose is supposed to serve as a nod before leaving. Maybe it was my imagination but her shoulders seemed a little stiffer, her back just a little straighter as she left.

I lean back in my seat and sigh, letting my eyes travel around the room I marched us into. I have no idea what this room is used for, it appears to be completely empty, save for the table and a few boxes stacked in the far corner of the room. It surprises me to find this room sitting empty. I thought nothing in Thirteen went to waste. I smirk, thinking of the death looks that Fulvia Cardew got the other day when she crumpled up a piece of paper with only a few words written on it. Since I've been deprived of alcohol, one of my few pleasures in 13 is watching these pampered Capitol citizens, 'rebels' they call themselves, struggle to adjust to life in this waste not, want not district.

As much as I would like to stay in this room and reminisce about the discomfort of the Capitol citizens, I can't. I have one more person I need to talk to before this day is over.

Katniss, Peeta, and I were a team. But there was one other member of our team. Peeta is lost right now, our team can't afford to lose any more members. If we have any hope of making Katniss into the Mockingjay, we need her help.

I stand up, leaving the empty room and heading in the direction of her compartment. I haven't seen her since the last night of the Quarter Quell, I wasn't even aware that she'd been taken from the Capitol until I deemed fit to return to society after my forced stint of drying out. She hasn't been to any of the command meetings, the rumor is that she's not adjusting well to 13.

Plutarch is the only one that has seen her and it appears that has done nothing to calm his stress levels. I was in Command the day he returned from talking to her, his face flushed any angry shade of red, his eyes wild with agitation. He rushed into Command, throwing his hands in the air, muttering to himself about idiot Escorts. It gave me a small thrill of pleasure to see Plutarch so disconcerted. Of course, he gets worked up at least once every day. It's another one of my few pleasures here in Thirteen.

I stop in front of the door to her compartment and take a deep breath. I don't know if I'm ready to see her again. How will I explain how she ended up here, in this district that isn't even supposed to still exist? She'll have questions, questions that I don't know how to answer. But that doesn't matter now. Helping Katniss become the Mockingjay is what matters now.

I don't bother to knock, I just walk in. She's sitting in front of a side table, her back to me, her hands working busily. She's dressed in the same drab, navy blue, uniform that everyone in Thirteen wears and her hair is wrapped up in a matching navy kerchief. When she turns around and faces me, I am startled at the sight of her makeup free face.

"Effie. I didn't recognize you without the colored hair and the excessive makeup."

She scowls at me. "Haymitch. Maybe I don't recognize you sober."

I give a dark chuckle at that, thinking that I barely recognize myself. "Well, I guess it looks as bad as it feels."

She stares me a brief moment before rolling her eyes and turning back around. I take the opportunity to glance around her compartment. It appears to be the same as every other compartment in this horrid district. One standard size bed and table, the entire room is decorated in gray, except for the pink material laying in front of Effie.

"You know, that door opens from the inside, too." I say, walking over to stand in front of her. "You're not a prisoner here."

At this, she gives a _hmpf_ but doesn't look up from her work.

"You can come and go as you please. You're no different than anyone else here." I try again.

She glares at me.

"I won't be seen aiding these radicals!" She snaps.

At that, I laugh out loud, unable to believe my ears. Does she really think that life is going to go back to normal over after this? Does she think that she's just going to waltz back into the Capitol, claim that she was held hostage in Thirteen, and just expect to be welcomed back into the fold?

"Effie…no matter what happens, nothing will ever be the same after this. Your life in the Capitol is over."

She doesn't respond, only stares at the fluffy pink material that is lying in front of her. I know this is hard for her and I feel the slightest twinge of sympathy for her. But this is war. And everyone suffers during war.

"Katniss is going to be the Mockingjay. She hasn't officially agreed but they're sending her to Twelve tomorrow. And once she sees what the Capitol's bombs did to Twelve, once she sees what's left, she'll agree." I stand there, talking to a woman who obviously does not want to talk to me. I'm almost ready to give up and walk out the door when she finally speaks.

"That poor girl." Her voice is a sad, breathy whisper, the same voice that she used the day of the Reaping for the Quarter Quell as she fished first Katniss's and then my name out of those glass balls. I turn back around to face her and I'm blown away by the devastated expression on her face. In all the years we've worked together, I've never viewed Effie's feelings at losing so many kids as comparable to mine. She's always made it apparent that she wanted to get bumped up to a better district where the tributes lasted longer than the initial bloodbath at the Cornucopia. But she was different with the star crossed lovers. She loves Katniss and Peeta too.

"There's more," I say cautiously, wondering how she'll take this next piece of news. "Katniss is pregnant. A little over three months."

The shock on Effie's face would be amusing if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Peeta?" She asks.

I nod my head. "She's pregnant and Peeta is being held prisoner in the Capitol. And she's going to be the Mockingjay."

Effie's hand comes up to cover her mouth and her eyes are glistening with tears. I decide to keep going, hoping the thought of an alone and pregnant Katniss will move her.

"If you don't help her, they will find someone else to act as an escort for Katniss. And there is not a soul in this godforsaken dungeon of a district that knows Katniss like you do. But it won't matter. They will find someone to replace you. Your girl on fire is burnt out. She needs you."

Effie is silent and it's apparent that nothing I say is going to get through to her. I give a sigh of disgust and turn to leave. I've just slid the door open when she finally speaks.

"For Katniss. And Peeta. And that poor baby. For them, I'll do it."

I don't turn around. I don't want to see that devastated expression on her face again. It's hard enough holding Katniss together. I cannot take on another person's emotional instability. So I simply give a swift nod and walk out the door, desperately hoping that between the two of us, we can help Katniss become the Mockingjay.


	6. Chapter 6-Gale

**_I am so sorry that it has taken me this long to continue this story! Life has been crazy lately, but I'm back and I hope to update at least once a week! Now for a confession-This chapter is not very good. I had major writer's block with this one and I think a lot of that is because it's a transition chapter. I really don't like it, but I've already got the next couple of chapters planned out, so I decided to just go ahead and post this and hope that you all forgive me for how awful this is. The next chapters will be better, I promise!**

 **Remember, I own nothing and am making no money from this. If you recognize it, it belongs to Suzanne Collins**

 **Gale**

 _It has been exactly one month and one day since the doctors released Katniss from the hospital ward. One month and one day since a doctor that I had never seen before in my life came into that waiting room and blew the last stable part of my life to bits. One month and one day of being at war inside my own head, trying my best to keep thoughts of Katniss and her baby out of my head._

 _I have not been able to succeed._

 _Nor have I laid eyes on Katniss since that day. After I came and offered myself up as a solider for Coin, I've been kept busy, strategizing, building, learning. I've been ingrained into the heart of District 13's army, I have become an essential part of the revolution. From dawn until dusk, I am constantly on the move. And even that is not enough to chase away the thoughts of Katniss. Sleep brings no relief. One would think that after putting in the number of hours I do, sleep would come easy. But the night brings no rest to my ever-whirring mind. As I lay in my family's compartment, my body exhausted, I cannot quiet my brain enough to go to sleep. Instead, thoughts of Katniss dance through my mind. I picture the way she looked at 11, when I taught her how use a snare, the way she looked on the day her sister was Reaped, the look on her face when she kissed Peeta Mellark in the first Games, the way her lips tasted when I kissed her before she left for the Victory Tour, the vacant expression on her face as her name was called for the Quarter Quell, the way tears streamed down her face when Peeta hit the force field, how close she looked to death when we pulled her out of that arena. How the first person she asked about when she woke up on that Hovercraft was him._

 _I wonder how, or if, I will ever stop thinking of her._

I spend my days working in the Weaponry Department alongside Beetee, one of Katniss's fellow Victors. Beetee was the first Victor/rebel conspirator that was medically cleared to assist in the revolution after the Victors were pulled out of the Quell arena and brought to District 13. Beetee was taken straight from the hovercraft to the hospital wing where he spent just one night before the leaders of District 13 wheeled his hospital bed straight into the Special Weaponry Department.

Because of this, Beetee is the first Victor that I've ever met, outside of Katniss, Haymitch, and Peeta Mellark, the man that I won't let myself think of. Finnick Odair is still hospitalized and, based on all reports, he won't be fit for duty any time soon. According to Haymitch, the minute he found out that Annie Cresta, the female tribute from District 4, had been taken prisoner and was being held in the Capitol, his grip on reality ceased. They are keeping him locked away from the rest of the district until they deem him fit for public interaction again.

I had expected to hate all Victors, save for Katniss. I certainly had no great respect for Haymitch Abernathy or Peeta Mellark and based on what I'd seen of Finnick Odair, I didn't expect him to be the Victor that changed my mind. To my surprise however, I liked Beetee Latier. He was smart and easy to work with, there was no problem that he couldn't seem to find a solution to. He was important to the revolution and working with him made me feel like I was important to the revolution too. And best of all, he didn't look at me as if I was a wounded animal, the way so many others in Thirteen did.

Word of my reaction to the announcement of Katniss's pregnancy had evidently spread and more than a few of my fellow survivors from District 12, as well as the citizens from District 13, seemed to look at me with pity in their eyes. How they knew of what had transpired in the waiting room of the hospital ward, I didn't know and I didn't want to find out. I didn't want to remember anything about that day or the way I had felt when the doctor had told us that Katniss was pregnant.

I'm sitting at a table in the Special Weaponry Department, studying blueprints of weapons that Beetee and I have designed and are preparing to build. For some reason, studying these weapon blueprints gives me the only dose of peace I receive these days. To others, it may seem a contradiction, finding peace in war. But to me, I see this war as a way of taking back my life, the lives of my family….to me, this war is the only way that we will ever truly have peace. I do not want to die for this cause, but I am prepared to. If dying means that others that I love will live in peace and freedom, without the fear of sacrificing their children to the Hunger Games or fear of having their tongues cut and being turned into Avoxes for simply disagreeing with the government. I realized a long time ago that wasn't any way for a person to live, living that way isn't really living at all. This revolution…it's the only thing that will set us free.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I don't hear the door to the compartment slide open. My senses, usually primed to within an inch of my life, seem to have scaled back here in the relative 'safety' of District 13. Because of this, I do not know that another person is standing beside until I hear the soft cough of a person clearing their throat.

I spin around on my stool, blueprints still held in one hand and just like that, there she is. Her face looks the same…same dark hair, gray Seam eyes…she looks healthier than the last time I saw her, screaming as the doctors stabbed a syringe into her arm. Her face seems a little fuller and her lips aren't dry and cracked. She has color in her cheeks and her eyes aren't as dull as they were when I last saw her. She looks exactly the same and for one brief moment, I think that maybe I have misunderstood…maybe she isn't pregnant, maybe she is not irrevocably tied to Peeta Mellark for the rest of her life, and then I let my gaze travel over her, searching her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and then I see it. Her stomach.

While it is not the monstrosity of a stomach that I remember my mother struggling with during her pregnancies, there is no mistaking the definite round swell of Katniss's formerly flat stomach. My eyes lock on her stomach and I can feel a lump in my throat and pressure building behind my eyes.

Here she is, the girl I love….pregnant with another's man child.

I think of what the doctor said told us in that waiting room, that she was over three months pregnant, so now she's close to five months pregnant. In four months, my best friend and the girl I love will become a mother…to a child that is not, and never will be, mine.

With that though echoing in my head, I yank my gaze back to her face. I can tell just by looking at her that she has some awareness of what types of thoughts have just gone through my head. A blush is creeping into her cheeks and her lips are twisted into an anxious expression. She has crossed both arms over her chest and is trying her best to keep her eyes on me.

Dropping my gaze from her face, I turn back around in my seat and scowl as I notice that I still have the blueprints, now crumpled held in one hand. Laying them on the table, I take a deep breath and run one hand over them, in a vain attempt to smooth the pages out before turning back around.

"Gale, I need to talk to you."

Her voice is soft, so unlike the girl that I know, that is causes me to turn around and face her. I have heard Katniss Everdeen's voice a thousand times, and not once have I ever heard here speak in this tone of voice.

"What do you want, Katniss?" I can't look at her while I speak to her. Not when she stands in front of me, carrying another man's child, when the last words I heard from her was that she choose me.

"I…I've just come from a meeting in Command," she says, uncrossing her arms and clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides. "They want me to be the Mockingjay."

I say nothing. I knew, of course, that they were going to ask her to be the Mockingjay, to become the face of the rebellion. I had expected her to say yes…but that was before I found out that she was pregnant. The fact that she was pregnant changed everything.

"They've been telling me that I need to do this for almost a month." She continues, walking closer and leaning one hip on the edge of my wooden worktable. "I…I haven't been cooperating. I've walked out of every meeting. Except for today." She stops and bites her lip, glancing at me before quickly glancing back at the wooden grain o my worktable.

"They want me to go back to Twelve, Gale. And I need you to go with me. I can't do this alone."

For a moment, all I can hear is the girl I love saying that she needs _me_. Me. Not Peeta Mellark, not Haymitch, not Cinna, her beloved stylists, not that Capitol tart escort Effie Trinket, not even her mother or her sister Prim. She needs _me_. She needs me and no one else. And in that moment, all I want to do is fall at her feet and tell her that yes, I'll do whatever she needs. But all it takes is a glimpse of the roundness underneath her blouse, where Peeta Mellark's baby lies, and I can feel every muscle in my body tense.

I turn around and take a deep breath, placing both hands on the worktable. I can feel my fists clench and unclench and glance down to see that my knuckles have turned white. With my anger barely contained, I whirl around and face her.

"Why Katniss? Why do you need me?"

She opens her mouth and then the expression on her face blanches. Cleary, whatever she was expecting, this was not it.

"Gale…you're my friend. My best friend."

I can feel my mouth gape open at her. Of all the things that I expected her to come back with, that wasn't it.

" _You_. _Chose_. _Me_." I say softly, deliberately, my eyes locked on to hers.

"Gale…."

I hold up a hand. "No. Katniss… _you chose me_. You said that you weren't going to run away, that you were going to stay right beside me and fight."

"I was…I did-" She begins, taking a step backwards and away from me.

"Then how did this happen?! How are you standing in front of me, pregnant with _his_ baby? You chose me! You promised to stay with me, to fight with me! I thought that was the beginning of the future for us! Do you have any idea how it felt for me to hear that? I was laying on that table, bleeding, in the worst pain of my life, and then I hear you promise to stay with me! I felt like I could do anything after that! And then to watch you go into the Quarter Quell…to see you with _him_ , to see you _kiss him_? I knew, Katniss….I knew you'd die before you let anything happen to him…and I told myself that you didn't love him, that you couldn't possibly love him, that it was all an act for the cameras. When he dropped that marriage story, that baby bomb the night before the Quell?! Was it an act, Katniss or did you know, even then? Did you know you were pregnant?! I thought I'd lost you for good! And then you were rescued…and I thought maybe we could get back on track…but then you turn up pregnant with his kid… if you chose me, _then how the hell did this happen?!_ "

By the time I am finished, I am yelling, the blood in my body is boiling and I can feel the sweat pouring down my face. My hair is falling into my eyes and I cannot believe that once again, I am letting my emotions get the best of me. I am hoping that my passionate outburst will have resonated with Katniss, when I glance at her, however, I see that she is as stoic as ever, standing with her arms folded at her sides. Her eyes are dry and her face is wiped clean of any expression. She looks at me as if she does not recognize me, especially not as the boy she has spent the past six years hunting with in the woods. It does not surprise me…I barely recognize myself these days…There are a million things that I want to scream at her, I want to demand that she answer my questions and tell me how she could have done these things to me, but the words are stuck in my throat.

I bow my head, waiting for an answer, but only silence descends. I glance up to see her walking away from me, her back as straight as ever. She does not say a word and never looks back.

I turn back around and put my fist through my worktable.

Several hours later, I hear the door slide open once again. I leap to my feet, expecting Katniss to have come back to explain everything to me or even Beetee. To my surprise, however, it's Commander Boggs, President Coin's second in command. He stands in front of me, arms stiff at his sides, feet braced firmly apart.

"Solider Hawthorne, I have been sent by President Coin to tell you that at exactly 0700 hours, a hovercraft will be leaving for District 12. And you _will_ be on it."

With a sharp nod in my direction, he turns and walks out the door, leaving me with a head full of questions, a heart that is twisting, and orders from the President.

 **I know this chapter had a horrible ending and Gale did not get the answers he wanted. Don't worry, he will! I just really needed to end this chapter so that I could go ahead and write the chapters that I already have clearly planned out. Please forgive for how awful this is!**

 **COMING UP NEXT: Katniss returns to District 12 and to the choice between Peeta and Gale.**


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